**Taken in the Back Room**

I never thought a night out with the girls would turn into this. I’d thrown on this ridiculously tight crop top—no bra, because fuck it, my nipples were way too sensitive for that torture—and a mini skirt that barely covered my ass. The whole point was to tease, not to end up on my knees in the back room of some club with a masked dude pinning me down.

But here I was.

The robbery happened fast—shouting, the bouncer hitting the floor, then cold metal pressed to the back of my neck. Next thing I knew, I was shoved into the dim storage room, the door locked behind us. My heart hammered against my ribs, but the fear twisted into something else when he pushed me against the shelves, his rough hands sliding up my bare waist.

“Fuck, you’re shaking,” he muttered, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

I *was* shaking, but not from fear. His grip was tight, possessive, and when his thumb swiped over my nipple through the thin fabric, my legs nearly gave out.

“S-sensitive,” I gasped, arching into his touch before I could stop myself.

He chuckled darkly, pinching the stiff peak, rolling it between his fingers until my thighs pressed together. “Yeah? Bet you come just from this, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer, but my pussy clenched like he already knew.

Then his mouth was on me—hot, wet—sucking my nipple through the fabric. I cried out, back bowing as pleasure shot straight to my clit. He bit down, just enough to make me whimper, then switched to the other, licking and teasing until the material was soaked with spit.

“Off,” he growled, yanking the crop top up. The second my tits were bare, his mouth latched onto my left nipple, sucking hard. My knees buckled, but he held me up, one hand fisting in my hair while the other slapped my tits—*hard*—making them bounce.

“Fuck—*ah*!” I writhed, every spank sending fire through my skin.

He didn’t stop, alternating between slapping and squeezing my tits before mouthing at my nipples again, flicking them with his tongue. I was dripping, my skirt soaked through, and when his fingers slipped under the waistband, I moaned shamelessly.

“Look at you,” he sneered, dragging my panties aside. “So fucking wet just from your tits.”

I couldn’t deny it. My clit throbbed, swollen and begging as he pushed two fingers inside me. The stretch burned, but I rocked against his hand, fucking myself on his fingers.

Then he dropped to his knees, yanking my legs apart. “Hold still.”

Before I could react, he hooked my ankles behind his shoulders, forcing my thighs wide—*frog-tied*—with my pussy on full display. His breath hit my clit, and I shuddered.

“Please—”

He didn’t make me wait. His tongue lashed my clit in rough, fast strokes, his fingers still working my soaked cunt. The pleasure was unbearable, my hips jerking as heat coiled tighter and tighter.

And then—just as his teeth grazed my nipple again—I shattered.

A scream ripped from my throat as I came, gushing over his mouth, my thighs clamping around his head. He didn’t stop, drinking me down until I was whimpering, oversensitive and wrecked.

When he finally stood, wiping his mouth, he smirked. “Told you.”

I slumped against the shelves, boneless and fucked-out, knowing full well I’d let him do it all over again.